


A Gift From God

by louhz



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A little, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Pianist, Ballet, First Meetings, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Meet-Cute, Piano, Romantic Fluff, Russia, Russian Bucky Barnes, i guess?, pianist steve rogers, Русский | Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:52:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louhz/pseuds/louhz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is a ballet dancer in Russia and Steve is a piano prodigy who gets a contract there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift From God

Steve had arrived to Russia a week ago, and he was experiencing a complete culture shock. Sure, he had studied Russian a little before moving to the country for a year, but still, he was having a hard time understanding the locals. They tried to speak more slowly to him, but Steve still felt like an idiot at times. The worst was that Steve was going to have to live through an entire Russian winter. That, he was not prepared for.

Steve was, well, a genius. He had learned piano at the age of four, and by the time he was six, he could play Mozart. All the schools had wanted him, and Steve decided to join the Juilliard School, in New York. They offered him a complete scholarship and paid studies. He was their star.

When he graduated, he didn’t know what to do with his life. Big companies around the world had offered him a place at their studios, and Steve couldn’t decide. His mother had been deceased for over a year now, and he just felt like he needed to get away from everything. So, reading the letter from the Bolshoi Theatre, he knew that’s where he wanted to be. Steve wrote back and a 3 months later, he was in Moscow, Russia.

He hadn’t been to his new workplace yet, but he was beginning to adjust to his new apartment. It was huge. At least, bigger than where Steve used to live back in New York. There was a glass wall, letting the sun inside. There was even a grand black piano in the living room. Steve felt like royalty. He was starting his new job tomorrow and he hadn’t even rehearsed. He took his piano sheets and sat on the bench. He placed his fingers on the tiles and let the music fill him. The sound was exquisite and he couldn’t wait to play it tomorrow.

*

The next afternoon, Steve took the bus down to the Moscow State Academy of Choreography, where the dancers trained before dancing on the big stages. That’s where Steve would be playing for the next year while also playing at the Bolshoi and Mariinsky Theatre.

He walked into the room, where there were already Irina and Sergey, the teachers who had sent some letters to Steve about the music they’d be playing. There was a huge black piano in the corner and music sheets on it.

He greeted the teachers with a few Russian words and waited at his piano for the dancers to come in. The clock was ticking and he could hear soft steps in the corridors. The teachers were tall and lanky. Irina was a very beautiful woman for her age, he thought, while Sergey looked like an old and mean Russian man. They were chatting in fast Russian, and Steve could make out a few words, but nothing more than that.

A knock was heard on the door and when the man, Sergey, opened the door, 4 students began to fill the room. They were the elite students. The students who were about to become professionals and get full-time contracts with companies around the world. Steve observed them. There were two girls, giggling about something, a boy talking on his phone and a girl warming up on the bar.

Finally, Steve saw, two students walked into the room. A girl and a boy. The girl was tall and skinny. She had dark red hair and a mischievous smile as she was talking to the taller boy. He was broad-shouldered and muscular. He had shoulder-length hair, which Steve watch him tie up in a bun. He was mesmerizing, he thought.

Steve knew that being gay here wasn’t exactly okay and he simply put his career first by coming to Russia. He knew that his love life would be on pause for a year and he accepted it. Still, he could appreciate beauty when he saw it. And he was beautiful.

The dancers all sat on the floor, warming themselves up while talking. Irina clapped her hands and began talking to them in Russian. She pointed at Steve, smiling. “This is Steve. He is our new pianist from America.” She said with a strong accent.

Steve waved at the students, pink-cheeked. “Hey, Steve.” The girl with red hair said, flicking her hair. “We’re from New York.” She pointed at herself and the blue-eyed man.

Steve smiled at them and the man’s eyes met his’. After that, the class started. They were practicing the Swan Lake ballet. Steve’s favorite. He loved Tchaikovsky’s music. In fact, he loved classical music. It was his favorite genre. He loved how raw and complex it could become. He loved playing dramatically while being alone. Piano was his only real escape.

Steve let himself be controlled by the music, while the students were in line at the bars. They started by doing relevés and pliés, while Irina was slapping their stomachs and whispering Russian words. A few minutes later, they were forming groups of two and apparently practicing their new choreography. Sergey was observing them, writing carefully in a notepad. Sometimes, you could hear him mumble incomprehensively and you could also hear Irina get frustrated at one particular girl.

After a couple of hours and some 15 minutes pauses, it was dark outside. The academy was emptying and the lights had been turned on. The piano seemed to be echoing and the laughs of the dancers were the only thing that could be heard. Two girls of the group left first, waving goodbye at everyone. The class was over, but some of them decided to stay and continue exercising. Steve thought he could stay for a couple more minutes, watching the students and their routine.

The red-haired girl suddenly approached Steve, putting her elbows down on his piano. “Hey.” Steve looked up from his sheets and smiled at her. He glanced behind her and saw her friend walking towards them. He had a towel on his shoulder and was sporting a white t-shirt with black tights. Steve almost felt obligated to look at his body.

“Hey!” Steve smiled at them. He was kind of happy to meet people who could speak English at his level.

“I’m Natasha, and this is James.” She said. “We’re here on a scholarship, what about you?” James rubbed his towel in his hair and sat on a chair next to Natasha, not saying anything.

“I’m Steve. I received a contract here to play the piano for a year.” He said quietly. The dancers nodded and took their sports bag,

“See you tomorrow.” Natasha said, waving goodbye at him.

 Just as Steve’s eyes looked at the almost silent man, he heard a quiet “bye” from him. Steve said it back and smiled his brightest smile. He definitely checked out his ass.

He took his messenger bag and his long black coat and turned off the lights, walking a little behind them. He passed in front of the secretary, an old woman with long white hair tied up in a bun, who told him goodnight in Russian. Steve answered, hoping he didn’t mess it up too bad.

He went back to his apartment and thought about James dancing to Tchaikovsky.

*

Three months had passed and Natasha, James and Steve grew closer. They realized they were practically the only Americans studying at the academy, so they decided to hang out more. Sometimes, after the classes, they went to a small café. Steve learned that James liked to be called Bucky, and that only Natasha called him James. He also learned that they were both from Russia, but had moved to America when they were young. They had received a scholarship and this was their last year at the academy.

One night, all of the dancers had left the room, and Steve decided he’d play the piano for a few minutes. He chose Debussy’s Clair de Lune. His mom used to play it to him when he felt sad. It was a soft and calming piece. One of Steve’s favorite.

Steve then saw Bucky coming into the room, staring at Steve. He stopped playing abruptly. “Hey, Bucky.” Steve smiled.

The Russian-born man passed his hand into his hair and Steve could’ve sworn he saw him blush. “Hey, Steve. What’re you doing? I thought class ended over an hour ago.” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I just wanted to practice some more. What are  _you_  doing here?” He smirked.

Bucky pointed his finger at his sports bag. “I forgot it.” He picked it up and then looked at Steve for a split second. “Can I stay?”

Steve glanced at his piano. “To hear me play?” He chuckled. Bucky then seemed nervous and his cheeks blushed.

“I…Forget it.” Bucky laughed, he walked towards the door, ready to run out of this place, when Steve yelled out his name.

“Wait, stay. Please.”

Even if he and Steve had been hanging out more, Steve still felt like Bucky was shy. He didn’t open up much to Steve, but he knew he’d do it once they become closer friends. He always looked tired and he trained too much, but he loved it. Sometimes, when Steve went to his and Natasha’s apartment, he’d find Bucky sleeping on the couch, still in his sports clothes.

They sat next to each other on the small bench, legs touching. The room was so quiet, Steve could hear Bucky’s breathing. “Got a request?” Steve asked, arching a brow.

Bucky grinned. “Play something by Rachmaninoff. He’s my favorite.”

So, Steve did. He played Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 18. He let the music guide him while Bucky stared at him with cow eyes. At times, Steve kept eye contact with Bucky for a few seconds and then look away, smiling. When he stopped playing, Bucky was still looking at him with a gapped mouth stare.

“You have a gift. Like from God.” Bucky laughed.

“Do you believe in God?” Steve asked, carefully.

Bucky tilted his head to one side, smirking. “No. Not really. You?”

“No.” Steve murmured.

They stayed next to each other for a few seconds in silence, when Bucky got up from the bench and told Steve he should go. He watched him leave and thought that maybe Russia wasn’t so bad.

*

A few weeks later, the Swan Lake ballet was really coming together. The choreography was completed and the dancers had learned it all. They had been practicing with some other students from the company, taking trips to the Bolshoi Theatre to rehearse. Sometimes, Steve would go along with them on the bus and sit next to Bucky. They’d mostly talk about their life back in America.

Steve found out that Bucky had lived in Brooklyn, just like him and that he almost studied engineering, instead of ballet. Steve told him that when he was young, he had a lot of health problems and that he was really skinny, which made Bucky laugh because now Steve looked so beef.

“Okay, but how’d you get so…big?” Bucky, biting his lip, trying not to laugh.

Steve laughed at the comment. “You know,” he said, with a cocky smile, “I work out.” They both exploded in laughter, resulting in people giving them dirty stares.

“Wanna come over later?” Steve asked. Bucky said yes, and they agreed to meet at 7 pm that night.

*

Steve heard a knock on his door at almost precisely seven o’clock. He smiled and opened. “Hey, you.”

Bucky entered and immediately gasped. Steve’s apartment _was_ beautiful. They sat on the couch, in the living room, next to each other. Steve made popcorn while Bucky chose the movie. They agreed on watching a Russian movie playing on television called “Bitva za Sevastopol”.

They were already through half of the movie, when Steve said “You know I can’t understand shit, right?”

Bucky started giggling. “I know. I just wanted to see you struggling.” Steve shoved him and they started laughing.

By the end of the movie, the sun had already set down and the apartment was dark. They were both a little sleepy and had blankets over them. It was 1:14 am and Steve could see Bucky’s eyes getting more and more tired and blinking slowly. His eyes kept staring at the beautiful man, when he saw a slow and tired smile across Bucky’s face.

“What?” Steve laughed, scratching Bucky’s stubble, because that was his new favorite thing to do.

Bucky’s cheeks flushed at the touch. He placed his hand on Steve’s. It was cold, despite the amount of blankets he had over him, but it felt good on Steve’s warm hand. He moved closer to Steve, thighs touching his. His face was at the closest he could get to Steve’s and he whispered “Can I kiss you?”

Steve nodded and licked his lips, grabbing Bucky’s waist with a firm grip. Bucky’s soft lips touched Steve’s quite chapped ones. The kiss was messy and tasted like candy, but it felt amazing. Bucky gripped Steve’s neck, grinding his hips, while the kiss became quicker and the short breaths were getting louder.

Bucky bit down on Steve’s lip, making the man moan. Bucky chuckled and reached for under Steve’s shirt. He placed his cold hands on the warm body, sending Steve shivers down his spine.

Steve opened his eyes and pushed Bucky back gently, faces still close and noses touching. “We can’t do this.”

Bucky frowned, but still caressing Steve’s jaw. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we can’t do this here. In this country.” Steve glanced at Bucky, expecting an angry comment. But the man simply kept eye contact, nodding.

“Okay.” He whispered. He kissed his temple for a long amount of time, as though he was comforting Steve. He laced his fingers through Steve’s and lied down his body between his’s. Steve ran his hand through Bucky’s hair, making him smile lazily. Just as Steve felt himself falling asleep, he heard Bucky whisper “Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Steve curled his lips, not even sure he heard well. “Ya tozhe.”

*

Getting on the plane back to America was the hardest thing Bucky had ever had to do. He couldn’t even kiss Steve good-bye in public, nor could he tell him that he loved him. Because he did love him. The past months had been such an amazing experience with Steve. He fell in love with all of him. With the way he played the piano to the way he never finished drying himself off properly after a shower because he was too scared to be late for work.

“I love you.” He said. They were standing in the airport’s men’s bathroom. “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Steve.” Tears were rolling down on his cheeks, and Steve’s too. They kissed one last time, with their lips both having a salty taste to them.

“I love you too.” Steve replied, watching Bucky leave and boarding the plane, with Natasha on his side. Steve sat down on one of the airport’s chair, breaking down in tears. His hands were shaking, feeling the emotions get the best out of him. He would have to stay in Russia for three more months. Without Bucky.

*

The last three months had felt like an eternity. It felt as though the classes were duller and the days longer. He hadn’t realized how Bucky had changed his life until he went back to America. Steve couldn’t play Rachmaninoff anymore without having tears fill up his eyes. And even as ridiculous as it sounds, Steve didn’t find the Russian language as beautiful as he once thought it was. He had heard it roll on Bucky’s tongue so many times, he felt as though only he could speak it so beautifully.

The day he realized was his last day in Russia, Steve sighed. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and see his friends. He just wanted to see Bucky again.

He checked his bags at the airport, and waited for his flight to be called. Families were waiting in line, as well as couples. Once he boarded the plane, his heart started beating anxiously. See, he hadn’t told Bucky that he was coming home. Instead, when he found out that he was having a ballet concert at the Metropolitan Opera, in New York, he decided to buy tickets and surprise him.

When they landed in America, the first thing Steve did was go home and sleep. He didn’t call anybody. He just went home and slept like a baby.

*

The next night, Steve took a shower and prepared to see Bucky again. He changed outfits at least 5 times, going from casual to way too elegant. When he finally found a middle, he left his house with a racing heart.

He sat in his seat at the Opera, waiting for the ballet to start. He was sitting in the middle of an old man and a teenager next to her mother. Bucky was the lead dancer of Don Quixote, the ballet that would be performed. The lights went out, and the public started clapping. The dancers went on stage, and they started to dance to the melodies of the music. Bucky appeared in a tight, black costume with Natasha next to him, in a red tutu. Steve smiled at himself. He missed them.

The performance was coming to an end, and Steve hadn’t taken his eyes of Bucky. He danced with such grace, it almost made him envious. The rhythm of the music was getting quicker and so was the speed of the dance.

As the light went on again, the applause of the audience died down. Steve jumped out of his seat, and headed towards backstage, where Bucky supposedly was. He pushed through the crowd, whispering thousands of apologies. When he finally assumed that he had made it backstage, he saw Natasha.

He ran towards her. “Nat!”

She sprung around, recognizing his voice. “Steve! Oh, my god! What are you doing here?” She grabbed his arm, grinning from ear to ear.

Steve hushed her down, not wanting to ruin the surprise in case Bucky was around. “I didn’t tell Bucky I was coming. I wanted to surprise him.” Natasha groaned and cupped his cheeks with her hands, telling him how nice he is. “Where is he?”

She pointed at the fifth door down the hallway, who was filled with tutus and sports bags. He saw a white tape on the door, with the name ‘James Barnes’ on it and two other names he didn’t recognize. He knocked on it gently. His hands were shaking from the nervousness.

The door opened, but instead of Bucky standing in front of him, it was a tall and skinny girl. “Hi…” Steve said, glaring behind her, “Is Bucky there?”

“Emily, who is it?” He heard someone shout from a place Steve couldn’t see. Bucky, he thought. It was Bucky.

She looked at Steve, waiting for him to tell her his name. “It’s a guy named Steve.” She shouted back.

Steve heard running and loud steps coming towards the door. His heart felt like getting out of his chest. The moment he saw a brunette head, he felt him jump on him. His Bucky. He had his legs wrapped up against his chest, head buried in his neck. He had even missed the way he smelled. Steve had a grin on his face. He could feel some tears beginning to fill up his eyes.

“Oh, god.” Bucky whispered against his ear. “I missed you so much.” Steve heard him starting to sob, so he pushed him back. He wiped the tears off Bucky’s face, who was embracing the soft touch.

“I missed you too. More than you could ever imagine.” Steve said, kissing Bucky after months of longing. The kiss was rough and salty, due to the tears, but it still felt amazing. They had craved each other’s touch for so long, and now they had it. They didn’t want to let go.

And they never did.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya tebya lyublyu - I love you   
> Ya tozhe - Me too
> 
> thank you so much for taking the time to read :^) xxxxxx


End file.
